


At the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine

by isleysister



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), and yes the title is from a lana del rey song fucking sue me, general softness, in this house we acknowledge that sam visited bucky in wakanda a lot before IW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 19:30:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15250431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isleysister/pseuds/isleysister
Summary: Sam and Bucky reflect while trapped in the illusion of the Soul Stone.





	1. Free and young and we can feel none of it

**Author's Note:**

> Anyways, here's my take on Sambucky after Infinity War.

James  Buchanan  Barnes is quite familiar with death, particularly his own. The fall from the train seems to be his clearest memory, always painfully fresh in his mind, unlike the other faded fragments that make up his life. 

Bucky struggles to remember the sound of his Ma’s voice. It only comes to him in his dreams, and even then, she can only be heard right when the dream skirts to a stop. He always hopes to god Ma will be there when he opens his eyes. He always wakes to silence.

Bucky thinks he’s pieced together what his sister’s laugh was like. It had a bounce to it, so full of rolling hills of joy and youth in every giggle. But now Rebecca's long gone and sometimes Bucky’s almost convinced he’s made her laugh up altogether. 

And his father? His father he doesn’t recall at all. Only a misconstrued figure, a mere shadow. 

But waiting to die during that endless fall? The surging cold rush of blood that ran through every vein in his body, every beat of his pounding heart, all of his body screaming at the certainty of his death? Bucky carries that memory in his very bones. 

Some may say that wasn’t the actual  _ end  _ of his life, given what happened afterward but that’s exactly Bucky’s point: What happened after the fall doesn’t count as a life at all. 

Nevertheless, it seems that given Bucky’s prior experiences, logically speaking, Bucky should be more prepared to die.

Logic. Yes, that’s the word that’s been on Bucky’s mind a lot lately. Logic.

But Logic says that Bucky should’ve died on the battlefield in the 40s, with all the others. 

Logic says that Steve Rogers should’ve stayed a 90-pound asthmatic kid in Brooklyn. 

Logic says that Alien-Demigod-Purple people should not have invaded a (formerly secretly) technologically advanced African country ruled by a man with cat powers and yet….

And yet there Bucky was, his body literally fading away in front of him, about to face his _second_ certain death, and all he could do was mutter “Steve?” in his bout of pure fear. 

Bucky felt that same cold despair and confusion from the train rush over him as his body withered away. After that, he was left with no body at all, only his pure existence being stretched and thrown around in a blank space. Bucky can only describe it as feeling like his sense of self was a blip being swallowed into nothingness. To say the least, it wasn’t very comfortable. 

This lasts for what could be a millisecond or a year until Bucky ends up with his face pressed into the ground, sand and salt on his lips. Instead of fading away in the humid Wakandan forests, he’s suddenly a solid person again and he’s... _ here _ . Wherever  _ here  _ is. 

From Bucky’s observations though,  _ here  _ is just a lot fucking sand, some sand, and a little more sand. There’s a stretch of ocean surrounding him as well, forming what seems like a completely isolated island that holds nothing but- _ you guessed it _ \- more sand. 

After ensuring that he is truly back together in one piece and picking himself up off of the shore, he yells a resounding “ **Fuuuuuckkkkk!** ” into the air. Bucky also aims a good, hard kick at the ground as well and his hair flies into his mouth as he does it, which only infuriates him further. 

He has his body back, thank god, but now he’s stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere and anyone who glances at Bucky’s track record knows god damn well he ain’t in Heaven. 

So that leaves Bucky with two options: 1. He’s in some kind of limbo, trapped in one of the stones or 2.  he’s really died and been destined to spend the afterlife in this beach hellscape. Both options, admittedly, are not the greatest. 

“Figures…” Bucky mutters bitterly as he pats himself up and down, still not trusting the surety of his body. He thinks that after what just happened, he’ll be dealing with that uncertainty for a while.  “Fucking figures.”

It just figures that after everything, Bucky’s gotta die in some last minute battle and he barely even knows who started it. Figures that everything goes to shit right as he was doing so much better-the nightmares had gone from being every night to only every few days, and even then he could usually calm himself down. A simple breathing exercise or call from Sam would be enough when he couldn’t (and if Bucky called Sam in the middle of the night even when he didn’t have a nightmare, well, that was nobody’s business but his). Bucky could even walk into the market, buy himself some plums, and be on his merry way without panicking in the hordes of people. Hell, he was even great with kids now-or great with kids “again” as Steve had put it. 

“You were always great with Becca, Buck,” Steve reminded him just yesterday when Bucky had mentioned the local kids he’d been playing soccer with as they were catching up. The words were bittersweet, but Bucky knew Steve meant them in the best way.  And Steve was right-Bucky was good with them. But that was only after Sam and Shuri had bullied him into playing that first game. 

“Come on Old Man, we’ll go easy on you,” Sam said as he kicked the soccer ball Bucky’s way. Sam’s gap-toothed smile peaked through the curve of his lips as he said it. Bucky swore he always felt that smile shoot straight into his chest. It didn’t hurt that Sam was only wearing shorts and a thin tank top that day...Actually, it did hurt. It hurt a lot. 

“Wilson, those kids don’t wanna play with...this,” Bucky responded, motioning at his whole self.    
Sam only did what he always did when Bucky said something Sam thought was, as he called“dramatic”- Sam rolled his eyes, shook his head, and said, “Don’t be like that, Barnes.” As if everything was that simple.

Shuri had just thrown her head back and laughed. “These kids? Terrified of _you_ ? Nah..They don’t mess around when it comes to soccer, Barnes. Perhaps it’ll be you who is terrified of them after this game, hmm?”

Bucky just squinted at her. Leave it to Shuri to make him feel like his perfectly sane assumption was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. But she was right, as always. Those kids didn’t care for a second and Bucky got his ass handed to him. He left the field that day tired, sweaty, and smiling under the sweet Wakandan sun, Shuri giggling on his left, and Sam cracking even cornier old man jokes on his right. 

Now Bucky is alone, cut off from all the people he was trying so desperately to protect. The thought haunts Bucky as he gives up on trying to make sense of any direction in this endlessly sandy landscape. He doesn’t know if this place is the magic of that purple man (Thorkus? Thotos?) or just the Hell Bucky’s been cheating his way out of for decades now but he does know that he refuses to sit there and wallow if there’s a chance he can get back to everyone-Steve, Shuri, T’Challa, Sam... Bucky brushes the sand off of his shoulders and walks. 

 

\---

Later, much later, after Bucky’s been walking for what seems like forever, he thinks back to his earlier realization of what this place must be. 

Bucky’s first reaction is to ask himself:  _ How the hell would you even recognize Heaven? What have you experienced that wasn’t two steps away from Hell? _

The logical part of Bucky says,  _ Exactly. Hell if I know.  _

But then some ridiculous part of Bucky thinks  _ If there is a Heaven, or some religious alternative adjacent to it, it would be a lot less like an endless beach and a lot more like a breezy summer day on a soccer field, with Sam Wilson’s hand on his, and giggles of children getting louder as Bucky pretends he’s too injured to be able to get up without Sam’s help.  _

Then a wisp of sand flies up and hits Bucky in the face and the daydream ends. 

No warm Wakandan sunset, no soft greens of a soccer field, and no Sam. 

_ Yeah,  _ Bucky thinks.  _ This is hell.  _


	2. Wishing you Godspeed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooh Sam POV

It ends with a crash. 

Sam’s body is no more, now all ash on the Wakandan forest floor. As the last of him dissolves, Sam only has his soul left to ground himself, and if you ask him, that isn’t nearly enough.

Almost like the birds he was so fascinated with as a child, he is now flying up, up, up into the atmosphere, going who knows where. 

Sam flies and for the first time in his life, he wishes he could just stay on the ground. 

 

\---

 

It starts with a wave. 

Sam tastes the sea salt air, feels the slap of warm ocean water on his face, before he even opens his eyes. It is very different from the last time he was awake, which was also the time his body disappeared. Sam would rather not dwell on that experience though, so instead, he counts this return of his body as a nice surprise. 

Sam doesn’t know what he even is anymore-soul, body, dead, alive? What he does know is that he’s not gonna sit around on his ass trying to figure it out when the world has gone to hell and his friends need him. Besides...Sam has never been one for waiting. 

Instead, Sam begins to assess his situation using his elite training. The closest term he can match to this is being captured, so he runs down the list. 

  1. **Escape**



_...Alright, easier said than done but we will work on it. _

  1. **Remember your surroundings**



Sam turns to actually take in his location. He turns left and sees golden sand that stretches out for miles until it meets a golden sun. He bends to pick up some sand and it only sifts delicately through his fingers. No strange alien activity or magic there. 

Sam turns right and is met with a sparkling ocean that has no end in sight. When the water splashes up far enough to touch his boots, he kicks at it. It only splashes like any normal water would and Sam dismisses it as anything out of the ordinary (forget that this whole fucking week has been the most unordinary of them all). Besides that, there is no sighting of people or actual resources. It’s just Sam’s tired ass, the hot ass sun, and this bland ass island. 

Sam sighs before swallowing down the surmounting panic in his stomach. Time for Step 3. 

  1. **Resist**



Sam spits out some sand that the wind whipped in his mouth and counts that as being rebellious enough. Moving on. 

  1. **Keep the faith**



Faith has always been a complicated topic for Sam, ever since the days of losing his father,  Reverend Paul Wilson. It only got more twisted after he met some demigods and fought a few aliens, so Sam opts to ignore this step altogether. He’s always kept most of his faith in himself anyways. Next. 

  1. **Come home with Honor**



_Okay, fuck_ _this list_ ,  Sam thinks before busting out laughing (if there was one (1) useful thing Sam’s time in the air force gave him besides the obvious, it was a good laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Sam will gladly take this laugh-he desperately needs it.)  His throat is dry and his body feels sore so the laugh comes out harsh, barely a humorous thing at all. 

Sam abandons his position facing the sea and turns to start walking towards the sun.    
_ Come home with Honor _ , they said. Sam hopes he makes it home at all. 

\---

It’s after what feels like 4 hours (maybe 4 days if Sam really lets himself go there...Time here doesn’t sit right with Sam. He’s counted up to 60 a number of times but each count feels wrong like Sam forgot a few numbers or can never get to the end. All Sam can do is keep walking. He refuses to lose his mind here-wherever  _ here  _ really is. That purple bastard does not get to have his sanity) when Sam realizes that following Steve Rogers all those years ago may not have been the best choice. 

Steve Rogers may be many things, but don’t let anyone try to tell you that he’s clueless. That motherfucker knew exactly what he was pulling with that _ stupid, puppy dog pouting ass, convincing ass, “It’s the right thing to do” ass face.  _

But still...Sam knows he didn’t blindly just follow Mr. Star Spangled Banner into the fight.

He went willingly and readily. And maybe even a little selfishly. Sam’s life at the time was nice, settled, much more full of stability and light since Riley died. Sam was doing so much better-he might even say he was happy again. But the appeal of saving the world tempted Sam beyond belief. His mama always said he was a daredevil. And dared he did the day he left everything behind to join Steve Rogers.

And at the end of the day, Sam knows that despite everything, he’d make that same choice all over again. Knowing the battle of a lifetime was coming only made Sam want to face it head-on. He was never one to run away from a fight. 

\---

The sun is actually beginning to set after miles and miles of walking and Sam hates to admit it but his spirit is a little crushed.    
He sets up camp, makes his best effort of a sand pillow and lets his body rest. Thoughts swarm into his head but instead of entertaining them, Sam pushes them aside and focuses on the sunset.

Apparently, that was a poor decision because it only makes Sam’s heart hurt, thinking about the last time he had seen a sunset. And man, were Wakandan Sunsets something to die for. 

_ “Barnes, you lucky bastard,” Sam says under his breath, partially in awe of the golden colors in the sky, partially trying to hide his insult from Bucky.  _

_ Bucky, who is laying on his back in their usual spot, perched in a Wakandan field near a waterfall, sits up and sighs. “What did I do now, Sam?” _

_ Sam ignores how Bucky’s ruffled hair is annoyingly attractive and how his t-shirt is riding up and revealing a strip of bare skin, and how Bucky glows in this perfect lighting. Sam barely even notices, really. “You get this view for free every night, yet you barely leave your house. How’s that figure?” _

_ Bucky opens his mouth to speak but Sam cuts him off.  _

_ "Tending to goats don't count." _

_ Bucky turns his eyes away from Sam, as if Sam is the one blinding him and not the actual sun. He bites his lip (Sam internally groans. James is so fucking extra) before he answers. “The sunsets not that great if you’re watching it alone...every...single...time. It just becomes sad at that point.” _

_ Sam shakes his head.  _ **_Dramatic_ ** _. That’s the only word he needs to describe Bucky Barnes.  _

_ “So I gotta move out here and drag you out every night to fully appreciate the view of a lifetime? Cus I’ll do it, James. Forget Steven, to Hell with the Avengers. I will do it.” _

_ Bucky just nods, a soft smile slowly making its way across his face. Sam expects his face is doing the same, but he’s too focused on switching from the horizon to Bucky’s face for him to register it.  _

_ “You ever really consider it? Leaving it all behind?” Bucky asks quietly.  _

_ Sam takes a moment to respond.  _

_ “Consider it? Of course. Think you’d be crazy not to at least think of leaving every once in a while. Actually doing it? I don’t think so...I love it too much. Mama always said I was addicted to getting myself almost killed.” Sam grins at one of his Mama’s many famous phrases. He misses her...wants to show her this sunset one day.  _ _  
_ _ Bucky chuckles at Sam’s comment, bringing down the tension. This goads Sam to share more reckless stories from his childhood. A particular one about Sam hiding in a tree for so long his parents called 911 leaves Bucky and Sam laughing way after sundown.  _

The memory warms Sam and also lights a fire in him. It reminds him of what he was torn from and what he needs to get back too. His Mama must be worried sick, not to mention Sarah and Gideon.  Hell, Bucky and Steve, with their dramatic selves, are probably a hot mess. Sam vows to rest for now and first thing in the morning he’s finding a way out of here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god those Wakandan days sound chill af. Too bad IW fucked it all up. If you too are upset about the damage done to Wakandan wildlife and economy hmu on tumblr @thotchalla

**Author's Note:**

> ugghhh I love my boys. Lmk if you love them too on my tumblr @thotchalla


End file.
